


Storm Clouds Are Thrice Cursed

by WitchingWeather



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cabin Fic, Druids, F/F, F/M, Fae Magic, Graphic Description, Idiots in Love, Iron Druid references, M/M, Moomins references, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Mythology - Freeform, Mythology References, OCs - Freeform, Prophecy, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, This will hurt, Witchcraft, a little bit of Stockholm syndrome, witch-hunting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:48:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24662569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchingWeather/pseuds/WitchingWeather
Summary: An old saying is “Storm clouds are thrice cursed.” This could mean a number of things depending on how you may interpret it, but the general interpretation of this phrase means that bad things always come in threes. However, this may not be the best interpretation. It simply may mean that things often repeat in threes, no matter the circumstances.This is a story of threes. Worlds and lives may change, grow, and separate, but if there is enough will the heart will find its way back to who it belonged. Destiny will make a way. Even if it has to do it three times.





	1. Prologue

The darkness of the cavern was suffocating. Every breath Bon took in felt like she was breathing through wet cloth, filling her with a sickening feeling of being drowned.  
  
The smell was worse. The stench of death that fills the human body with a sensation like no other. Every nerve screaming out that something evil has happened here, and it’s high time to leave. The scent of decaying flesh was almost enough to turn back, but she pressed on. She knew the cave was meant to drive her mad, and it was working it’s magic quickly. The sooner she reached what was at the end, the better.

The final test of her mind was the sounds. The sounds of fingernails clawing behind walls, desperation increasing with every strike against the ancient stone. Next came the cries. No, that wasn’t the right word. What she heard were _wails._ They were the wails of madness, torment, agony, grief, anger, and every one cried out with the voice of someone she had known. Every voice cried out to her, calling her to come back to where she once had come. “Come back to the dust from which you were formed,” they screeched with increasing desperation. 

Bon broke into a full sprint down the single cavern passage. The darkness was tangible now, and it was clawing at her with the hands of the dead. Their voices screamed behind her, now turning their desperation into hatred.

“You did this to us!” the voices wailed, forcing her to try and pick up her speed. “May your lineage forever be cursed, and may the very ground you walk on scream your sins! WITCH! WITCH! WITCH! WITCH!”   
  


Bon cried out, covering her ears. Their voices filled her head, repeating the same chant over and over again. “WITCH! WITCH! VILE WITCH! WITCH WITCH! WHORE OF THE UNDERWORLD!” 

Suddenly it all came to an immediate halt. The feeling of suffocation, the overwhelming smell, the endless moans of agony and rage, and even Bon’s running all came to an instant halt. Bon breathed heavily, panic filling her as the madness that drove her deeper into the void of darkness now went silent.   
  


After taking a minute to recover, she called out into the endless maw of the darkness. 

“Hello?” she called.   
  


Instantly the entire cavern began to tremble. Bon quickly braced herself as the walls of the cave began to morph and twist like a labyrinth, the exit she had come through now being closed off and now leaving her in a small room.   
  


After an immeasurable amount of time down in this horrid place, she now had light. A perfect square of rock had been broken through, and it illuminated something that scared her more than any madness this place could have brought to her.

It was a woman. A _living_ woman. She was pale, but not in a sickly way that anyone who lived in a cavern for this long would be. It was the kind of pale that was dreamed of by serfs and fieldworkers; it was the mark of nobility and a life without work. Her skin was splashed with an assortment of freckles, dotting her face, arms, chest, and making it look as if someone had gently flecked a paintbrush on the clean canvas of her skin. Her hair was a menagerie of flames intermingled with one another, the curls of such deeply beautiful hair bouncing with a freeness that could never be found in a place like this. It gave a new meaning to the term “redhead”.

She bore a single, white, partially-transparent dress. If it was meant to show any form of modesty or cover any bit of her, it failed. The dress seemed to be a welcoming to look on in awe, inviting all who would come closer and appreciate the beauty behind it. The most peculiar part is the fact that even though she sat cross-legged upon an ancient cutout of flat rock, not a single spot of dirt covered her or the dress.   
  
What struck Bon the most was her eyes. They were a green that shined like the polished jade of the dynasties of ancient China. They had a softness to them, but behind that softness there was nothing. It was as if she was a wooden toy, waiting to be played with and given a new breath of life.   
  
As soon as that thought passed though Bon’s mind, the woman spoke. The life in her eyes was still void; she spoke as if she was being used as nothing but a way to broadcast a message.  
  
The voice was loud. Booming with an intensity not possible with human vocal cords. She also spoke in an octave lower than any human could achieve, bellowing her words with such authority that it caused Bon to drop to her knees without thinking. 

“ _YOU HAVE COME FAR, SUFFERED MY TRIALS, AND LIVED TO TELL THE TALE. HEAR ME. YOU HAVE A DESTINY DECIDED BY THOSE OLDER THAN THE EXISTENCE OF THIS FEEBLE UNIVERSE, BUT NOW THAT HAS CHANGED._

_“YOU STAND ALONE IN A FIELD FLOODED WITH DARKNESS. AS HIGH PRIESTESS, THIS HAS BEEN YOUR CURSE SINCE YOU WERE KNIT IN THE WOMB OF YOUR MOTHER. HOWEVER, THIS CURSE IS TO SOON BE BROKEN. THERE WILL BE A MAN, ALONE IN A FIELD OF DARKNESS, WAITING FOR YOU. WHEN YOU MEET HIS EYES, YOUR FIELDS SHALL MERGE, AND THERE YOU SHALL STAND, SWALLOWING THE LIGHT TOGETHER.”  
_

Bon didn’t understand any of these prophetical words. She cried out, begging the woman, “Please, I don’t understand! What field do I stand in? Who is this man? Am I cursed to bring this world to its end? Tell me!” 

Instead of answering, the woman only collapsed against the stone. As the vague impression of life drained from her eyes, Bon began to feel nauseous. Within an instant, she had hit the ground without realizing it, her consciousness slowly beginning to fade as she stared into the last ray of sunlight she would ever see. 


	2. The Golden Bear

Bea awoke to the sounds of Midsummer: the rustling of a warm breeze through the forest trees, the gentle creaking of her cabin, and the sweet songs of the nearby birds settled in the trees.

She yawned as she sat up, giving her body a good stretch before letting out a groan as a response to the sounds around her. She gave a content sigh before planning out her day aloud.  
  
“I should probably make sure to make something for myself before checking on my garden, then I might go see if I can’t find an ingredient or two I have been missing from my shelves for a while.” 

With a proud nod, Bea sprang out of her bed with determination and a plan in mind. First things first, of course, was getting dressed.

She opened her sizable mahogany wardrobe and spoke to herself as she perused through her summer outfits.

  
“Something cute of course,” she mused with a slight hum in her voice. “Maybe a dress? Oh! I haven’t seen this one in a while.”

Bea struggled for a second, moving her other clothes over before pulling out one of her favorite dresses to wear in the summer. It was a deep black, somewhat Gothic in style, but modified for her own liking. Its chest was a tad bit open to accommodate her, and she had hemmed the skirt itself to slightly past knee length instead of the usual floor length worn by any woman who did not wish to be whispered about and rumored as a harlot or a witch.

It was regarded as distasteful in style, too short, and showing too much that would would cause heads to turn. It was too dark as well, being that it was Midsummer and women everywhere were wearing their pastels and lighter colors. It was a witch’s outfit down to the last stereotype that had been thrown about, and Bea loved it.  
  
She quickly slipped into the dress before throwing on a pair of stockings, and finished off her outfit with her black knee-high leather boots.

  
She had disregarded the need to close her window for the sake of privacy, for she knew the forest in which she resided in was perfectly protected. Anyone who wandered anywhere near the cabin would simply see more forest due to the spell cast around the cabin and a small patch of woods around it. No one would see it unless they knew how to do so through the glimmer of magic, and would quickly be turned around in the Black Forest and lost.  
  
The only things able to enter her protected patch of the woods were animals, who often liked to wander into the nicely shaded clearing and sniff around her garden. Bea’s greatest threat seemed to be the rodents and rabbits that liked to come in and chew on her fruits, veggies, and herbs, but she let them be and have as much as they wanted. Animals do need their fill, after all, and it’s rude to have a surplus of food lying right where they can reach it and try and convince them that the food is not for them.  
  
Bea turned to her full-length mirror on the wall opposite her wardrobe and gave herself a look over. She was somewhat taller than most women, being about the same height as the average man and spooking many men when she was able to look them in the eye. Her skin tone was a gentle bronze, not quite as dark as it could get but lightly sun kissed from hours out in the sun here and there.  
  
She liked to regard herself as “pleasantly plump” in the places that mattered, and she liked to tell that phrase to sharp-tongued merchants who liked to comment on her weight in order to make them trip over their own words.  
  
Bea’s eyes were a lavender-blue, being light and sweet but piercing to the soul if someone crossed her or her coven. Her mood was always reflected best in her eyes, and that mood was often cheery and carefree until someone ruined her plans.  
  
Her hair was that same shade of green she loved so much, being something close to a mossy-grassy green that really made heads turn wherever she went. Her blades of green grassy hair gently tumbled together down to the base of her neck, and that made heads turn and whispers rise just as much as the color did. Short hair was incredibly uncommon, and the only time hair was “short” was when it was pulled up in a bun of some sort.  
  
Bea soaked herself in for just a minute longer before giving a bright smile and a confident nod.  
  
“Now that’s a cute witch,” she said to herself, sparking a little laugh to escape afterwards.  
  
She opened her door and made her way towards the kitchen, again talking to herself as she thought.  
  
“Something light and quick should be good. I’d like to go into town to see my favorite old man and see if he has my stew, so maybe a few slices of ham to start?”  
  
Bea grabbed a small pan off of a hook on the wall before placing it on a small stand over their kitchen fire. With a quick whisper of an easy incantation, the flame of the open furnace burst to life under the pan.  
  
She moved over to her “cooler”, a crate that she had enchanted to stay cold for her meats and things she wished to preserve for longer than a few days. Out of it she grabbed a ham hawk she had recently purchased, already sliced, and threw a few pieces into the hot pan that screamed with a sweet searing sound.  
She gave herself a content nod before returning the ham to her “cooler”, and quickly snatched a fork from a drawer to flip the pieces when they were ready.  
  
She took a quick glance out of the open window to her left, absorbing the warm rays of the early morning sun hitting her skin and looking into her little clearing with a pleased grin.  
  
It was only then that she saw the bear.  
She froze in place, not daring to move. Bears and other predators very commonly wandered into the cabin clearing, obviously pursuing the little prey that liked to snack on her garden. Usually they were no problem, since the clearing also had something like a taming hex on larger predators. As soon as they wandered in, they’d usually relax, lie down in a nice spot in the sun, and either doze off or enjoy some nice pets from Bea.  
  
This bear, however, was different. It was highly attentive, sniffing around like it was searching for something big and possibly human-shaped to munch on. It paced back in forth in a short two or three meter path, about five meters away from the cabin. Bears don’t usually like to stalk prey and pace. They preferred to rush in and take whatever they thought looked tasty.  
  
The other problem with the bear was how it looked. It was massive, larger than any black bear or even brown bear common to the forest around Bea’s hideout, and it was blond. No, not blond, it was almost golden. It’s fur seemed to shimmer like it was lightly coated in gold dust mixed with pollen. She had never seen a bear so large or even that particular species, much less one of that color.  
  
The final thing that concerned Bea is the fact that the bear had a different aura. For magic users, everyone and everything living has an aura around them. It’s a haze of color that can indicate several things, especially the emotions of a person or an animal. But this bear was different. Around it’s normal aura was a ring of white a few centimeters thick. To Bea, that only meant one thing, because only certain things and people had that telltale white glow.  
  
“It’s magic,” she said aloud.  
  
It must have been too loud, though, because the bear quickly whipped its head toward her after she said it.  
  
Bea let out a small squeak as it sniffed the air before slowly lumbering towards the window. She did her best to quell her nerves by doing the only thing she was confident in at the moment: talking.  
  
“Don’t worry, Bea,” she tried to reassure herself. “It’s just a bear. A big, scary, golden, magic bear that totally doesn’t smell the magic on you and wants to eat you for breakfast. It definitely does not only eat magical beings and magically inclined people to fuel its own magic. Oh gods what if it does? Why did I think of that?”  
  
As the bear stuck its head through the window, Bea slammed her eyes shut and held her breath as she prepared for the worst.  
  
Instead of biting her head off like she was expecting, Bea heard the sound of loud sniffing. She opened her eyes to see the bear trying to reach the pan of ham, sniffing like mad at the scent of delicious seared meat.  
  
Bea let out a nervous laugh, saying, “Oh, that’s all you wanted! Well if that’s the case, I will gladly share my breakfast with you.”  
  
She held up a piece of ham, and instantly the bear snatched it up in its massive maw. Despite her calm nature at the moment, Bea was terrified. But she knew the best thing to do was to not show the bear she was afraid. She didn’t know if bears smelled fear, but this one was magic and it was safe to assume it could sense anything at the moment.  


The bear looked at her expectantly with almost a human-like expression. It clearly showed the bear’s innermost thoughts: “Where is my next piece?“  
  
Bea tossed the next one into its huge jaws, and it contently chewed on the piece of meat. She decided to make a risky move, reaching for a piece and nibbling on it for herself. The bear regarded her with another very human-like expression. It seemed to be telling her “Go ahead, eat. We are sharing.”  
  
She decided to make another risky move. With extreme caution, she reached out her hand towards the bear’s head. It craned its head down, seeming to encourage her. From there, Bea did what she did best with the beasts of the forest.  
  
She gave it a good old fashioned head rub.  
  
The bear seemed to appreciate it, for its eyes were closed and it’s tongue was lulling out of its mouth.  
  
Bea let out another laugh, giving a light double pat to let the bear she was done.  
  
“Aw,” she said, “You’re just a big sweetheart, aren’t you? A big, golden, sweetheart who could possibly be a god in disguise. Tell me, sweet bear, what are you? Where did you come from?”  
  
To Bea’s disappointment, the bear did not reply. Instead, he sniffed at the ham again to demand another piece. She sighed, giving it to him as well as taking a piece for herself.  
  
When all of it was gone, Bea held up her hands to show she was all out.  
  
“Sorry, buddy, no more ham.”  
  
She was expecting one of two things to happen. Either the bear would go away, leaving to find more food and maybe raid her garden, or it would try to get in through the door to search for more food. Bea was very much hoping for the first option, since “food” inside the cabin also could have been her.  
  
Instead, the bear decided to take an unexpected third route. It scooted its way backwards to get its head out of the window, turned to the forest, then looked back at her. The look wasn’t just a remorseful glance because it no longer had food. It was telling her something. By the smallest of head movements towards the forest, Bea was able to figure out what it was telling her.  
  
“You want me to follow you?” she said, cocking her head to the side.  
  
The bear huffed in a somewhat exasperated tone, and it took a few heavy steps away from the cabin before looking back at her again. She appeared to have assumed correctly, and the bear did not appear to be very patient.  
  
“One second, please!” Bea shouted before running into her room. She quickly grabbed a small satchel of various roots, bottles, herbs, spices, and a small book of hexes. She had decided that it was best to keep herself prepared if she was to follow a magical creature, and she was a potion witch to the core. If anything was to go wrong, she had a premixed bottle to keep her safe.  
  
After gathering her things and quickly running out of the cabin, she saw the bear still standing in the same place it had been before. “All ready to go!” she said cheerfully. The bear huffed before turning to the forest and walking out of the protected patch of forest. Bea quickly followed, and as soon as she passed through the barrier the true elements hit her.  
  
It was a hot and humid day in midsummer, and the sun’s blistering rays were reaching through the canopy of trees quite well today. Following a magical creature was something that often lead people of curiosity to great things. Whether it be a fortune or a quest, magical creatures seemed to know who to lead where. On the other hand, many creatures had lead foolish people to their deaths.  
  
However, through quick reasoning, Bea had decided following the bear was the best option. Magical creatures were an omen one way or another, and depending on what forces were behind it, it could be the spirit animal, guardian, or messenger of a deity. It could even be a deity itself, but that part she doubted. Deities tried their hardest to hide the truth about their auras, but they always had a very bright whiteish-gold about them no matter how hard they tried to suppress them. Even Loki, the trickster god of the Nordic faith known for shape shifting and being incredibly good at hiding his aura could be found out eventually if someone looked hard enough.  
  
Bea pressed on behind the bear, still trying her best to be cautious. It seemed to be nonchalant, somewhat slow in movement and not expressing a care in the world. Whatever the bear was, and wherever it may have been leading her, Bea was intrigued.  
  
Her thoughts quickly shifted to the negative repercussions this would have on her day. She may not have enough time to check on her favorite old man in a nearby village, and even if everything went smoothly with the bear she would still have hell to pay when she came home. Despite claiming she was part of a “coven” of witches, it was only herself and her mentor and best friend Bon.  
  
Bon was much older, wiser, and leaps and bounds more powerful than she was, and she hated when Bea would go on “side quests” and not focus more on brewing new, stronger potions. Bea knew for sure Bon would be home soon after her weekend away on a journey she claimed was “demanded by the gods”, and she’d be horribly upset if she couldn’t find where Bea had gone.

  
“I hope this does not take long, bear,” she said aloud, now walking next to it. “My coven mate would be very upset if she found you had taken me away from my house duties.”  
  
The bear huffed again, seeming to say, “We’re almost there, now stop complaining.”  
  
Bea sighed as they trudged through the heat of the summer, resting her hand on the bear’s massive shoulder. She ruffled it a little bit, interested in the shaggy golden colored hair of the peculiar creature. When she pushed it around, she noticed there were black markings on the skin underneath. It didn’t look like scars, but something else. Where those... tattoos?  
  
The bear notified Bea that she had overstepped her boundaries by letting out a deep, thunderous growl.  
  
“Sorry!” she apologized, yanking her hand back. “So sorry.”   
  
The bear huffed again in exasperation, but it didn’t seem too upset since it hadn’t eaten her hand.  
  
After what felt like about an hour of hiking filled with battling vicious insects, the heat of the sun, and the silence of the forest besides their footsteps, the bear lead Bea to a large hill where the trees seemed to stop at the base of the mound. She hiked on, following as close as she could as they ascended a much larger hill than she thought. Soon after, she realized where she was.  
  
The smell of salty air, the cool breeze of a nearby ocean, and the open world around her showed the truth. This wasn’t a hill. This was a _cliff.  
_   
Panic quickly followed suit, and her thoughts began to race. What was the bear trying to do? Was this some form of ritual? Who had brought her here? What did it want? 

Her thoughts were quickly cut off as they reached the edge of the cliff. She did her best to not look down, but she immediately failed. Below was the crashing sea, bashing into shagged, grey rocks about a hundred meters below. She had no idea they were this high, and she was beginning to regret coming with the creature.   
  
What she had not noticed is that the bear had moved behind her. When she did, it was already too late. A huge, looming shadow stretched across the small amount of ground left in front of her, and she made the mistake of turning around. The bear was standing on its haunches, towering almost three meters in height.  
  
It’s expression was the most terrifying part. It seemed to be making a decision. Whatever the decision was, Bea prayed to whatever gods may be out there that it wasn’t about to do the unthinkable. 

She did her best to stand tall, even if it felt like her final moments her upon her. 

“Go ahead,” Bea said confidently, clenching her fists. “Do what you must. I have done nothing to harm you, but if this is what you must do, either by your own volition or through the will of another, then do it.”   
  
The bear’s eyes flickered with an intelligence that should not have been there. It had made its decision.   
  
The bear raised both claws, readying itself. Bea squeezed her eyes shut, saying a quiet apology to Bon for not being a better spellcaster to defend herself. The most she could do at the moment was push it back, but she knew it was already too late. By the time she even muttered the littlest incantation, there would be claws in her and she would be tumbling into the sea below.   


A quick thought flickered in her head. _I am not going down without a fight._ Bea had never been a good spellcaster, but she _was_ an incredible potion witch. Anything you could think to brew, she knew how or would at least try with all her strength to create. She had prepared for this. She was a witch, damn it, and she refused to die on a cliffside to a bear!   
  
In a split-second action, she grabbed out a premixed potion she very rightfully labeled _Inferno._ With one final act of defiance, she screamed, slammed her eyes shut, and prepared to launch the bottle of liquid fire at the huge beast. 

At that moment, the entire ground below her shook, and she snapped her eyes open to see what had happened. To her astonishment, the bear had _jumped._ It had fully cleared her, and was heading for the sea.   


Her worry for herself and willpower to live quickly changed into fear for the bear.   


“No!” she screamed, watching as it tumbled headfirst down the sheer cliff below. She dropped to her knees as she watched it fall the whole distance, unaffected by its actions.   


To her absolute amazement, she watched as the bear quickly morphed. It seemed to change into a very large man for a brief moment before back into an animal of some sort. It was... an owl?   


The owl opened its massive wings, catching the updraft of the wind below and narrowly missing the rocks.   


As soon as it flew far enough to be away from the jagged spines, it shifted again, a man for a brief moment, then into... an elephant seal?   


Its huge bulk slammed into the water, and before Bea could think about anything that had happened, it had already swam away.   


She took a moment to recollect her thoughts before uttering the most intelligent and appropriate reaction to the situation.   


“What the fuck?” she muttered aloud.  


Before she could fully process any of her thoughts or her situation, a familiar ringing filled her ears. It was Bon calling out to her through a mental link they had established long ago, and that meant several things. First, Bon was home from whatever expedition she had been on. Second, she knew Bea had left the house and not to her usual place in the village to shop, otherwise she wouldn’t have called to her. Finally, she was royally pissed, and Bea knew it would only get worse from here. 

“Beatrice?” Bon’s voice snapped in her head, making Bea wince. “What’s going on? Where are you?” 

“Um...” Bea started. “It’s quite a long story-“

“I didn’t ask for a story,” she chided. “I asked where you are.”   


Bea winced again, afraid to answer the question. “... At the edge of a cliff?”   


Bon’s shrieking voice made Bea’s head feel like it was being split from the center. “What do you mean at the edge of a cliff?!”  


“I told you it was a long story!”

Bon’s sigh echoed through Bea’s nasal cavities for a moment before she spoke again. “Fine, fine. Give me a brief, one sentence sum up of it, then get your ass back home and explain the rest.”   
  
“Well,” Bea started. “To put it simply, I met the most peculiar golden bear.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be expecting weekly updates on Wednesday–Friday. My hope is to release every Wednesday, but due to my own inconsistency and schedule, it’s possible the next chapter may be as late as Friday. Thank you for your understanding and for reading. 
> 
> If you haven’t yet, make sure to go read SilverStardust’s story, The Trails We Leave Behind Us.

**Author's Note:**

> Over the course of about a year, I’ve fiddled with different ideas with my own characters. I’d make up simple scenarios, expand upon them, and then in the end delete the idea. Now, I think it’s time I made a real story.  
> My thanks goes out to SilverStardust. Without them, I wouldn’t have had the courage to start writing now or possibly ever. This work is dedicated to them and their hard work, and if you’re reading this I cannot possibly thank you enough.  
> This work and my thanks also goes out to my friend Samantha. Without ever knowing anything about this work, she wholeheartedly encouraged me to post it and she’s been nothing but supportive throughout my beginning process.  
> Thank you for your love, and both of you have made this work come to life. 
> 
> If you’d like to see what SilverStardust has done, I greatly encourage you to read their story The Trails We Leave Behind. It’s the reason I even began this story.


End file.
